


A Really Close Encounter

by dragonlandsandyaoihands



Series: Mad Blood Stirring [6]
Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Alien Sex, Aliens, Alternate Universe - Domestic, Anal Sex, Blood Kink, Bottom Keith (Voltron), Dungeons & Dragons 5th Edition, Established Relationship, Kinky, M/M, Medical Kink, Misuse of cutlery, Sort Of, Top Lance (Voltron), beanie babies - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-27
Updated: 2018-04-27
Packaged: 2019-04-28 11:18:10
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,941
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14448165
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dragonlandsandyaoihands/pseuds/dragonlandsandyaoihands
Summary: The group gathers for their weekly Dungeons and Dragons session, but this time, they learn a dark secret about Keith. A taboo of both man and science. He ships himself and aliens.





	A Really Close Encounter

**Author's Note:**

> A big thank you to my wonderful brother, for betaing this and helping me flesh out this story so much!
> 
> If you're interested in reading more of my writing early access or drabbles that aren't posted on AO3 at all, come check me out at:  
> dragonlandsandyaoihands.tumblr.com for more information in my bio.
> 
> For this fic, I really am asking for some feedback. (I always love feedback on everything BTW). I have included it in my series, even though the theme of that series is 'heat'. I never found a good time to add the element of 'heat' while writing it and to do so after it was written felt...inorganic I guess. I didn't want to force it. But, at the same time, it came from the list of prompts I mention in the description of the MBS series, so I felt that it would be odd not to include it. I want to know what you, the audience, thinks. Should it have been included?

“Woah! I can’t believe there was actually something here!”

“Are you kidding? It just took a whole session to decipher those fucking Frownie lines! If there wasn’t anything here, I’d start a riot in the street!”

“Fraunhofer lines, Lance.”

“Whatever.”

“Anyway! So, now you’ve reached an opening into the comprehensive cave system. Allura, Keith, Lance, and Shiro can see about 40 feet into the cave. They can make out carvings that resemble the symbols from Keith’s dreams.”

“Hang on, I gave Hunk my belt of Dwarven kind last time. I’m pretty sure it gives him darkvision.”

“I thought he rejected the belt.”

“No, I definitely accepted it because I have it written down. Uh, gimme a second, let me check the stats.”

While Hunk frantically flipped through his extensive notes, Keith rearranged his legs and adjusted his headset. Even though they lived together, he and Lance usually played their weekly Dungeons and Dragons in separate rooms to avoid feedback in their mics and the temptation to make silly faces at each other and get distracted. Back when they’d all started playing together, everyone had lived pretty close so they could play in person. Coran, their collective babysitter, had been the dungeon master and introduced them to the game. Once Allura had gone to college though, he’d moved away and Pidge had taken over for him. They’d had to find a way to keep the game alive online. One by one, the rest of them had left for their own universities, except for Lance and Keith who’d moved in together and attended the same school. In the silence left by Hunk, Lance managed to make a weird crackling sound.

“What was that?”

“My knuckles.”

“How the fuck was that so audible? What is wrong with your hands?”

“I don’t know Keith, you weren’t complaining about my hands last night.”

“Aw, gross!”

“Lance.”

“We didn’t even do anything last night! You wanted to watch some dumb show on Netflix about slashers and I fell asleep!”

“Yeah, right in the pizza box. You had so much grease in your hair it was disgusting.”

“I showered! And you promised you wouldn’t tell anyone!”

“Ugh, why are you mad that Lance told us about you sleeping on pizza, but not about whatever weird sex stuff he was about to say?”

“I found the notes! I do, in fact, have darkvision now.”

“Great. So you saw the same symbols in the cave. What would you all like to do now?”

Shiro hurried to interject before anything else embarrassing about Keith could be revealed.

“I roll to investigate the carvings.”

“Wait! What about checking for traps?”

“I think Keith should do that since he’s the rogue.”

“I roll to check for traps.”

“Okay, Shiro what did you get?”

“22.”

“Keith?”

“36.”

Pidge whistled, impressed.

“No sign of any traps in or around the entrance to the cave. Shiro, you confirm that the symbols are the same as the drawings Keith did of his dreams. From what you can tell, they also look vaguely familiar from another context. Possibly something Allura has shown you.”

“I also roll to investigate! Or see if I recognize them from when I showed Shiro!”

“Nah, you roll for a history check.”

“Sure. Um, oh. Oh dear.”

“What is it?”

“5.”

“You have no _fucking_ clue.”

Allura groaned and Shiro chuckled good-naturedly. 

“Okay, let me think. The last thing Allura would have shown me-“

“Lance don’t say it.”

“I didn’t even say anything!”

“-would have to have been the pages torn from a book about her ancestors. So these symbols must have something to do with her ancestors. Shit, I guess she would know the most about extra-planar symbology. Does anyone else know anything about other planes? Aasimar comes from the same plane as Celestials right? What plane is that?”

“Maybe Hunk would know? Since he’s a monk? Actually, Shiro, you should know something as a sorcerer right?”

“It’s not that kind of monk. I master spirituality and being in tune with your body, not any god or plane in particular. Outside of the Material plane, I mean.”

“And you’re thinking of a warlock. I draw on magic from my weird arm gift, but it’s not from any bargain I made with a greater entity. You’re a bard, what have you heard or read about Celestials?”

“Maybe I could cast Comprehend Languages?”

“Pidge?”

“Lance, you get your one game favor from me right now. I thought you might try that so I looked it up in advance, but the rules say: This spell doesn’t decode secret messages in a text or a glyph, such as an arcane sigil, that isn’t part of a written language. So here’s what you glean: the symbols on the walls don’t belong to any written language and I’ll save you the use of that spell.”

“Well, I appreciate that solid. But it doesn’t get us any further in deciphering it. Let me check for anything on Celestials or their plane. Heaven? They’re like angels right?”

“D&D isn’t Christian mythology, but yeah kinda.”

When no one else chimed in with another suggestion while they waited, Keith decided to spice things up.

“These are pretty suspicious glyphs that obviously don’t originate from the Material plane as we know it so I roll to search for aliens.”

Collective groans sounded across the channel.

“Jesus Christ, again?”

“It’s a miracle he went this long without doing it.”

“For the last time Keith, there is no evidence of interstellar travel in your campaign. There aren’t any aliens!”

Keith threw his hands up in exasperation.

“You keep saying that, but why? There’s fucking cat people! Lance is a cat people!”

“We’re called Tabaxi, first of all-“

But Keith cut him off before Lance could elaborate on his other points.

“I’m just _saying_ that there’s more things in heaven and earth than we have dreamt of. Why are aliens implausible in this game?!”

“Because it’s my campaign! And do you have any idea how much more work creating aliens would be? That implies the need for another homebrew race, developing the kind of technology that is consistent with the universe, but would be effective, a whole other world that they are from, not to mention another language and other customs and, oh yeah, _a fucking storyline about why they are here in the first place!_ ”

“Keith, buddy, you’ve been trying to get her onboard with the alien plan for years. If it didn’t work before, why would it work now?”

Under normal circumstances, Keith would appreciate Hunk’s attempts at placating him, but at the moment, he was getting too angry to care.

“This is the same argument being rehashed again. If you can’t take this game seriously anymore, maybe you should take a break for a few weeks. It’s hard for the rest of us when you’re constantly antagonizing Pidge about this.”

“Woah hold up. That seems sort of extreme, Allura. It’s not like Keith isn’t committed to this game; he was the one who suggested that we all keep playing online when you first left.”

“It just seems like he isn’t as into the game as he used to be.”

“Yeah because _there’s no aliens._ ”

“Why does it have to be aliens? Why can’t it be something else?”

Keith nearly tore out his hair in the privacy of the living room. Lance would have stopped him, giving him something else to clutch and rip in his pissiness, but Lance was comfortably laying down on their bed in the other room. Keith snarled into his microphone.

“Because you give everyone else what they want!”

“What do you-“

“Everyone else has had cool character arcs by now! And I know it’s Allura’s turn because that’s clearly where the symbols are going, but what will you do after that? I’m the only one besides her who hasn’t had their own arc and I know you’ve been putting me off every time because you don’t want to invent aliens, but what then? Once you’ve finished hers, then it’ll be very clear that I just won’t get an arc because you don’t want to do it! You even let Lance fulfill his borderline creepy mermaid fantasy!”  
“There was nothing creepy about that! Plus, I bet you want to be abducted by aliens in a kinky way.”

Keith blushed and didn’t dignify that with a direct response. Instead, he barreled on with his original argument.

“Hunk got to have a bake off with royalty using a weird cupcake machine that he invented! And before you took over as DM, you had a whole quest line finding your missing father and brother! So why not aliens?”

“I just fucking told you why not aliens!”

“Coran would have given me aliens.”

Keith muttered, mullishly. His fists clenched and unclenched at his sides and he was two seconds away from ripping off his headset and throwing it across the room. Maybe hurling his laptop into the street for good measure too. The only things stopping him were the 8 page paper he had due in a few days that was half written on the aforementioned laptop and the memory that the headset was an expensive gift from Shiro. He heard a slam echo through the line.

“Fine! You want this? Sure! I see you don’t care about my carefully crafted story lines or my painstaking world building so we will do this your way and you have to deal with the ensuing shit show consequences. I will fly by the seat of my pants with this so hold on to your butts everyone.”

Pride and excitement bubbled up in Keith’s chest as he fumbled for his dice. 

“What do I roll?”

“Just a d20 and add your intelligence modifier.”

Keith let the die fall with bated breath. His eyes widened and the smugness in his voice was palpable.

“Natural 20.”

“You’re shitting me.”

“Hold on, I’ll show you.”

Keith hurriedly turned on the video chat part and picked up his laptop, unplugging the cord first and being careful not to jostle the table or disturb the die. He aimed the laptop camera down at the die, moving it as close as he dared.

“Okay, okay! I can see it! Why couldn’t you just take a picture on your phone?”

“This was faster.”

He righted the computer and turned off the video chat again. But he still pulled out his phone to photograph the die for good measure. He saved the picture to his folder marked Awesome. (The only album that was locked. No way Lance would ever see any of the shameful things in that folder. Especially not the picture of Lance peacefully sleeping the soft morning light after the first time they’d had sex. Keith was taking that shit to the grave.)

“Okay so when Keith puts his hands on one of the glyphs, all of them start to glow. A purple light begins to shine from the ceiling, first as a tiny pinpoint of light, then expanding to a hole nearly the size of your entire party. A feeling of weightless comes over you, Keith, and you glance down to see your feet stop touching the rocky ground. You hover for a few moments in the tractor beam and then lose consciousness. When you come to, you’re newly adorned and alone in an empty, sterile, grey room. By that, I mean that you have metal wrist bands and ankle bands fastened on. It’s sort of dark in the room, although the darkness doesn’t affect you.”

“Are there any windows or doors? Can I see all the way to the other side of the room?”

“The room is pretty small. Maybe 10 feet by 10 feet. You can definitely see all of it. You can’t see any windows until you happen to look up. The entire ceiling looks like it’s clear glass. No doors that you can immediately identify.”

“What am I wearing? Do I still have my weapons?”

“Uh, no. Your weapons are gone. So is your armor. You’re wearing a loose cloth dress. It gives you no bonuses. Bare feet. But you do have the metal cuffs I mentioned earlier.”

“Oh sure, you ask about your weapons, but not your frickin' friends.”

Keith rolled his eyes at Hunk’s audible pout.

“Are my friends here?”

“Nope.”

Pidge popped the p.

“In fact, the rest of you get to voice the aliens, assuming Keith ever finds them.”

“I’m getting to it. How tall is the ceiling? Can I reach it?”

“Keith bounces on his tiptoes and reaches up towards the ceiling, like that anime opening, but not even the barest tips of them brush it.”

Keith felt one of his eyes twitch.

“I meant by jumping.”

“Oh! Well, roll an athletics check.”

“How about acrobatics check?”

“Absolutely not. What did you roll?”

“16.”

“Keith bends his knees into a crouch and springs into action! Lunging, fist raised towards the ceiling, intending to burst through! Sadly, he doesn’t get enough height to impact it.”

Pidge sounded positively gleeful. Keith exhaled sharply, knowing a lost cause when he saw one. 

“Right. Okay, I investigate the room for any kind of hidden door or exit. Scratch that, I’m just investigating in general.”

He hurriedly amended. Pidge could be annoyingly semantic at the best of times and, considering how Keith was already pushing his luck, he didn’t want to get trapped forever from some poor word choice.

“22.”

“Not rolling so well now, huh samurai?”

“Keith carefully looks around the room, checking for anything that catches his interest. In one corner, he finds some scratch marks made in straight, vertical lines. Someone was either clawing at the wall or counting the days, you think. Not a lot about the room is attention grabbing, until you just barely make out the slight indent on the north wall. Running your grubby half-orc hands over it, you get the impression that the wall has the ability to split there. Or there’s a newly patched crack in the wall.”

“Is it a door seam or a crack?”

“Make a straight intelligence check.”

“23.”

“It’s not a crack. The walls are made of metal. They don’t crack like that.”

Pidge’s dry tone easily rivaled any desert. The muffled sound of Shiro’s chuckles made Keith’s eye tick again.

“I knock.”

“…nothing happens.”

“I knock harder.”

“Are we talking like banging down the door or really bugged about your neighbor banging their headboard into the wall at 3am?”

“Oh like you have _any_ room to talk Lance.”

“Shut up! Whatever. No one answered right? I attack!”

“Well we can skip initiative since, ya know, it’s a door. Just roll to attack and then for damage.”

“Natural 19.”

“You crit the door. Damage?”

“9. Unless it counts as a sneak attack.”

“I mean, a door isn’t ever alert so, sure.”

“Okay, then 34.”

“With an unarmed strike?! Damn.”

“That’s hot.”

“The wall bows under your swinging fist. You almost think nothing will happen, but you’ve left quite the uh impression. Part of the wall is wrenched away and provides an opening large enough for you to fit your hands inside.”

“I rip it open. Here, I’ll roll for strength. Um, 19.”

“Natural?”

“No, total.”

“Eh, you don’t look very impressive and you’re sweating and straining hard, but you manage to pry open the door enough to wedge yourself through. The sweat helps.”

“What do I see now?”

“You’re in a corridor, sterile like the room you just left, but marginally brighter. There is a row of purple lights, like airplane emergency lights, except across the ceiling. A bipedal creature wearing a black bodysuit and holding a tablet stands before you.”

“I hold up my fists in preparation for a fight.”

“The creature presses the tablet twice and the metal bracelets on you light up, the same purple light that is obviously the reoccurring theme. Your hands snap together in front of you at the wrists and your feet do as well. Your feet aren’t quite bound as tightly as your hands, but you are effectively hobbled. Roll for a dex save to see if you remain standing.”

“24.”

“You remain standing.”

“Ooh! What does the creature look like?”

“Uh, something like a large purple cat person. Big fuzzy ears. Maybe 7 and a half feet tall. Standard proportions. The front of his body suit is emblazoned with a red symbol that you don’t recognize. It doesn’t look like any of the symbols from the cave, before you ask.”

“Dibs on being their voice!”

“Should have guessed Lance would volunteer to be a furry.”

“Your fault for making the alien be a furry Pidge.”

“I struggle against my bonds. Sleight of hand or acrobatics check?” 

“Sleight of hand if you’re only struggling for your hands. Acrobatics if for both.”

“26 for acrobatics.”

“Despite your impressive wiggling, the cuffs hold strong. So do you ankle cuffs. Meanwhile, the alien watches you curiously, typing furiously on the tablet. For this, I’ll type some text to Lance so he can voice it.”

The tapping of keys is loud over their channel.

“You’re a funny thing. Didn’t expect you to break open the room. I was coming to let you out just now, actually.”

Despite not being in the situation, Keith felt his cheeks burn for a moment for his character.

“Oh. Uh, sorry about your room. I just wanted to see what was out here.”

“The alien doesn’t seem bothered by your blatant destructive tendencies. He goes on to ignore you for a few minutes while he types away before addressing you again.”

“My name is…Moo-roh?”

“Muh-roh”

“Right. My name is Muro and I’m in charge of prisoner study.”

“Prisoner?”

“The alien, Muro, glances down at your wrists, then down to your ankles, and brings his gaze back to you. Although lacking eyebrows, you get the sense that he would be raising one at your question.”

Pidge clarified. Keith grumbled at the idea of being a prisoner, but wisely held his tongue, waiting to see what would unfold. There was the sound of rapid typing again and Lance picked up as Muro’s voice again.

“Since the room you were in before is not habitable at the moment, I will bring you to one of the main observation rooms. There are no official records documenting one who looks like you, so understanding your species is paramount. It would please me greatly if you would tell me a little bit about yourself. We can walk and talk. But knowing about you would…bring me a looooooot of pleasure. Tons of pleasure bringing from you. Very happy to be pleasured.”

“I did _not_ send you all of that.”

“This entire game is about improvisation! I’m improvising! I’m totally a method actor, you know.”

“I don’t think Muro is so crude. Or desperate.”

“Yeah, I mean, he conducts prisoner intake, so he must have plenty of prisoners to choose from.”

“I’m playing Muro! Not Hunk or Allura! Me! Lancey-Lance.”

“If Lancey-Lance doesn’t get with the program, I’ll get someone else to play him.”

“Why does no one appreciate my artistic genius?!”

Keith interrupted the impending tirade.

“I’m Keith. I’m the rogue of my group. What should I say? I’m a half-orc. I sneak around as the rogue. I-I said that already. Ugh. What else am I supposed to tell you?”

The sounds of several people snorting into their microphones was his only answer. Keith grit his teeth, hands balled into fists in his lap, and forged on.

“Okay, um. I guess I’m part not orc. Like mixed race. Or, wait that doesn’t sound right. Mixed species. I think my other part is human? Wait fuck, I don’t actually know. Half-orcs are half orc and half human right? Or is that only half-elves? Pidge! What’s my other half?”

“Baby, I’ll be your other half.”

“Good one, Lance.”

“You know what? I’m not going to answer that. Your character, Keith, is aware of his orc ancestry and that he has mixed blood, but he doesn’t know what his other side is. I think it’s more interesting.”

“But for future reference Keith, whenever a race is Half-Something, the other half is usually implied to be human.”

“Thanks Shiro.”

“Is there anything else that Keith says to Muro?”

Keith thought for a second before going on hesitantly.

“I guess not being entirely orc is a big deal. Might explain why I was never really good at connecting with people. And, I mean, about your room, I-I have a bit of a temper, so. I don’t know why I’m that way…”

Keith trailed off awkwardly. His character’s backstory was pretty simple, arguably the reason why he hadn’t had a personal arc yet. When they’d first created their characters 6 years prior, he hadn’t given it much thought. His Keith was an orphan, abandoned by his mother at a very early age. He’d fallen in with a local gang, but after messing up an operation, his father had gone missing, presumed dead as a result. He’d vowed revenge, but first he needed to get stronger and had fallen in with the rest of his companions as a result. Most of the time, it was easy to remember and, although various stories over the years had fleshed it out somewhat, it was still a basic background. Keith’s father in real life was thankfully alive and well, if emotionally distant and too busy dealing with his own problems to handle Keith. The part about his mom leaving him was true and at the time he just went with it. As he got older though, and more introspective, he sometimes wished that he hadn’t included that factoid about Keith the character any time it was brought up. He didn’t plan on bringing it up now and bringing down the mood. Not when there was finally _aliens._

When it became clear that Keith had nothing more to add, Pidge picked up the narration. 

“Muro leads you through a series of winding corridors, difficult to keep track of since they all look the same. At least Muro seems to know where you’re going. You do pass several aliens on your way, most of them similar enough in height and appearance to suggest that they are the same species as Muro. One door slides open as you pass and I’d like you to roll a perception check.”

“26.”

“You barely have time to peek in while a couple of aliens are exiting the room, but it’s long enough to make out a figure on the opposite wall. From where you’re standing, they look human, but they’re missing their right arm. They also seem to be unconscious and suspended in some kind of large metallic apparatus you’re unfamiliar with.”

“Hmm…that doesn’t sound good.”

“Muro notices your uneasiness.”

“Oh, don’t mind that. It’s an ongoing experiment, quite likely to fail in my opinion. But the data gathered has proved to be invaluable. The current political climate is more favorable in terms of awarding grants, but you always have the nay-sayers. ‘What’s that for? Is it doing any good? What are scientists really doing even?’ All that rubbish. And, considering the prince’s recent claim on the Empire, we’ve got to be even more vigilant.”

Hunk furiously scribbled notes down while Lance spoke. Keith crossed his fingers that Lance would save the words Pidge fed him to go over later. Even flying by the seat of her pants, she already seemed to have a few irons in the fire. Keith wanted to know more.

“So…what species are you? And what about the Empire? Or why you chose to take me? I don’t know anything about you except your name.”

“We are known as the Galra. Our Empire is very vast and very ancient.”

Lance read it cryptically and Keith just _knew_ that Lance was struggling to hold back the creepy laugh that would normally accompany such a phrase. 

“You were chosen because our scanners detected some…unique qualities within you.”

Pidge waited until Lance had finished.

“If you want to ask anything else, you’ll have to roll for persuasion.”

Keith blanched. His character only had a Charisma of 8. Even if he rolled a 19, he’d have to subtract 1 with his modifier and there was no way that would end any way but poorly. But…if he did roll 20, he’d acquire some good information. Keith wasn’t stupid. They’d just talked about the fact that his character only knew half of his ancestry. And now Pidge dangled the tidbit of unique qualities within him? Undoubtedly leading into something suggesting that his mystery heritage was alien, or Galra rather. It wouldn’t be something that simple, not with Pidge at the helm. Not to mention the fact that they were technically in Allura’s character arc. No way Pidge would have forgotten that. Keith wondered how his ancestry could possibly tie into Allura searching for her long lost civilization after she’d lost all her memories. Knowing Pidge, the answers would be mind boggling and full of angst. While he mulled over his odds of extracting more information, Pidge broke character to speak up, albeit grudgingly.

“Man, I know I’ve been giving you shit about this and don’t think you’re off the hook or anything, but this could actually be an interesting story for me to tell. I’m having a few ideas with this, to say the least.”

“Of course you do. It’s why Coran chose you to become the new DM. You’re creative and brilliant enough to execute the creativity, even on the fly.”

Pidge’s blush at Shiro’s honest praise was tangible, even through cyberspace. Keith nodded to himself, picking up his d20. His odds weren’t great, but when had odds ever dictated his actions before?

“I ask Muro to elaborate, on the current state of politics in the Galra Empire, specifically the prince who he implied was anti-scientific research, and on the ‘unique qualities’ I possess.”

“Roll.”

Keith inhaled and cast the die. He squeezed his eyes shut for a second before looking cautiously to see what he’d rolled. 

Oh. Oh no.

Keith tried to speak and his voice cracked a little. He cleared his throat and tried again.

“1.”

The sound of Lance facepalming echoed throughout their apartment. Keith could relate.

“Are you telling me that you rolled a 2? And subtracted your modifier from it?”

“Uh, no. I guess what I meant was 0. Since I rolled a natural 1.”

For a moment, only silence met his admission. 

“Muro presses a key on his tablet. You barely feel a tiny pinprick in your wrist. Within moments, your vision becomes blurry and you sway on your feet. You don’t have enough time to act before you fall to the floor, unconscious.”

“Well shit.”

“Yeah, I have a bad feeling about this.”

“Hunk, you have a bad feeling literally every single time our party meets anyone or goes anywhere!”

“Yeah! I do! And guess what? 75% of the time I’m right! Maybe it was different with Coran, but this is Pidge we’re talking about! Keith just got drugged on an alien spaceship by a guy who, if he’d gone to human medical school, would be Doctor Muro. Like Doctor Moreau. Didn’t any of you read that?”

“No? What’s it about?”

“No spoilers Hunk.”

“Okay, well, it’s bad. Bad stuff happens in that book. It’s Not Good.”

“ANYWAY. Keith comes to, securely fastened to a long metal table. Your clothes have been removed and the metal is very cold against your skin. You are held down at the ankles, wrists, and neck, by similar metal bands to the ones you noticed on you earlier. Muro stands a little off to your left and 3 other Galra are also in the room, surrounding you and peering down at you inquisitively. Immediately to your right is a small table, various metal objects strewn about the surface. Some of them look really sharp. Above you, you note that the ceiling of the room you are currently in is also clear, like your cell. Muro sees that you are awake and groggy.”

“Don’t mind the ceiling, it’s just to let others watch the demonstration.”

“What demonstration?”

“I said it before didn’t I? There are some aspects that we detected about you that defy explanation. My colleagues and I are going to run some tests to find out why.”

Allura muttered something about Hunk being right and that they should trust his gut feelings more in the future. Hunk didn’t have time to feel vindicated before Lance was fed another line.

“I do appreciate your candor from before, but I feel that we’ve had enough talk. As a student of science, I do rely more on hard data than personal accounts. Though I have no reason to believe you were lying… Well, no matter. If you cooperate, most of our tests are non-invasive and shouldn’t cause much pain.”

“I’ve never cooperated with anyone in my life and I’m not about to start now!”

Shiro giggled briefly.

“Muro tilts his head and gestures to the other Galra, maybe his assistants, to begin their tests. The first test is pain free and consists of one Galra holding a long metal bar over you. They begin by hovering the bar above your head and move slowly down your body. When they have passed your feet, they take the bar over to a machine built into the far right wall and insert the bar.”

“I struggle against my bonds.”

“So, even though before it was an acrobatics check, since you’re now actually strapped to a table and your neck is also bound, I’ll say it’s a straight dex save.”

“Do I get advantage from my Grapple feat?”

“Um…yes. And we’ll say that you have one opportunity to break free after they conduct each test.”

Keith rolled his die twice.

“29.”

“You come close, but you’re _just_ not able to break free. The second test involves taking individual measurements of different parts of your body. They use something like a measuring tape and check your arms, your torso, your legs, etc.”

Keith had to take a moment to control his breathing at the descriptive visual. He wasn’t ready to give Lance the satisfaction in confirming that this was, indeed, one of Keith’s biggest kinks. Plus, he was in the middle of a game with his friends; not an ideal time to get turned on. He gave one last warning glare at his lap before picking up the d20 to roll again.

“Nope. 27 total.”

“The third test revolves more around your head and face. Looking closely at your eyes, ears, nose. That sort of thing.”

“Which one is going to be ‘roll to get probed’?”

Keith grit his teeth and reminded himself that Shiro was just being silly. He didn’t know what kind of effect that would have on Keith and was just teasing. No need to murder him in his sleep. 

“How close are they getting to my face?”

“Not close enough for you to bite them. I know how you think Keith.”

Keith growled in frustration, running his hands through his messy hair. He couldn’t help it. He kept picturing being tied down, being examined apathetically by beings vastly different from himself; being viewed as nothing more than another curious experiment. Without realizing it, he reached down to palm himself and let out a quiet whine. Lance promptly coughed loudly.

“R-right. So, buddy I think you can roll again to escape!”

“Are you okay Lance? Your voice just got super high pitched there.”

Bless Lance for causing a distraction. Pidge had sounded sort of suspicious, but it would be easy enough to blame it on Lance just being his weird self. Keith clenched his fists, determined to get ahold of himself before he did anything really embarrassing. As he rolled his die twice, Lance opened the bedroom door, coming out into the living room. He looked a little flustered and a lot bewildered. Setting his laptop down softly, Lance frantically gestured in his direction. Not having any idea of what it was supposed to communicate, Keith raised his eyebrows and shrugged.

“Right so I rolled again and got a 25 so I failed _again._ ”

“Dang. Well, as Lance pointed out, this was getting a little sexual so let’s try to faze that out, shall we? Two of the Galra bring over a larger machine, bringing it next to your head. After pressing some buttons, part of the machine detaches from the top, swinging out like the arm of a tiny crane. It manuevers itself and lowers until it is uncomfortably close. A beam of light suddenly blinds your right eye and you find that you can’t move it. Even the eyelids and all muscles immediately surrounding the eye are paralyzed. Your eye starts to water as you’re unable to blink. You hear Muro murmur something about testing a retinal structure as a long, thin needle extends from the machine, lowering towards your eye-”

“Oh shit.”

“Pidge, wait. This is too much. Please don’t be going where I think you’re going with this.”

Keith pictured the scene, even as Hunk nervously tried to not vomit at the imagery. His breath caught in his throat, thinking somewhat longingly about being forcibly held down, surprised at the situation and undeniably turned on, unable to struggle or move, having things be done to him…

He came to at the frantic movements of Lance’s hands trying to gain his attention. He blinked a couple of times. Lance looked…pretty freaked out actually. Keith blushed, not helping his cause. Lance pointed at where Keith was rocking a half-chub, evident because he was lounging in his boxers. Keith huffed and pointedly averted his eyes. There was a reason he’d never brought up this kink to Lance. Honestly, even though they’d been together for a few years, their sex life had always been fairly vanilla. Sure, they experimented with blindfolding and fuzzy handcuffs, same as most couples, but Lance had never mentioned anything and it hadn’t occurred to Keith to bring it up. He was perfectly happy with their sex, don’t get him wrong. It’d be awesome if he could entice Lance to be rougher with him more often, but he wasn’t going to say no to practically having his body worshipped and the love Lance enjoyed lavishing on him. But his rather strange opinion on alien abduction? Yeah, right. He knew he’d either be laughed out of bed or Lance would be totally creeped out. Eventually, Keith had thought he’d go small, maybe encourage some more hair pulling and spanking, or maybe cross dressing. Although he’d never planned to reveal the alien thing, he sort of hoped that Lance would fall on the make-fun-of side of things. Even if it meant enduring embarrassing teasing. Unfortunately, Lance appeared to be on the verge of a panic attack at the notion. Clearing his throat, Keith spoke briefly.

“Whatever Pidge. Just get on with it.”

His voice was low and gravelly. His sex voice. Not that anyone except for Lance knew what that sounded like. He didn’t dare look at Lance, though he could tell Lance was still sitting there with him. 

“Hmm. Well, Hunk puking in the middle of a session won’t do anyone any favors. So let’s back that up. Record scratch, reverse. The machine was actually positioned over your torso and the paralytic beam focuses on your abdomen, just beneath the lungs. Mostly so that this doesn’t actually cause you to stop breathing, or, you know, your heart to stop. Although technically you have tons of important organs there so any kind of paralytic would be potentially problematic…and that’s assuming orcs have similar anatomy to humans, along with Keith’s other half, which is unlikely at best…”

“Thank you Pidge.”

“Fine. A thin, sharp blade extends from the machine, glinting cruelly in the purple light. Muro and his assistants lean closer as the blade reaches your skin. You can see it happening, but you can’t tighten your muscles in preparation, nor can you feel anything more than the application of pressure. Your lifeblood beads and spills as a small, precise incision is made on your stomach.”

Keith rolled a natural one in real life and moaned.

The channel was silent as the grave. Lance’s shoulders were hunched, his face buried forlornly in his hands. No one even dared breathe. Keith felt his face flame like never before. He couldn’t decide what to say, but the longer he went without saying anything, the more incriminating everything was. He wondered where he’d gone wrong. He wondered if the couch would just do everyone a favor and swallow him whole. 

“Welp, that was our session. Same bat time, same bat channel next week. Lance, please do everyone a favor and fuck him _before_ we play so this doesn’t happen again. Pidge out!”

Keith yanked off his headset and logged off. He shut his laptop and put it on the ground, next to the couch. He was hyperventilating and couldn’t calm down. 

“Wow. Uh, maybe in a few days we can persuade Pidge to pick up the story before the torture porn got too real, since it was actually kind of cool and I want to know if you’re some cool alien/orc combo. But, on the other hand, you might wanna kiss Keith the half orc goodbye cause she might just absolutely murder you next sesh…”

“I finally got her to invent aliens. Worth it.”

Keith’s voice was shaky and muffled by his hands. Lance ran his own hands through his hair and giggled, a little hysterically. 

“Yeah well. If I’d been in control of Muro, not gonna lie: I wouldn’t have gone for the eyeball. I would have done more tests on a different twitching organ, if you know what I mean.”

Keith knew Lance was likely trying to lighten the mood, hoping that Keith would scoff at him, brush off his ill-timed innuendo, and they could pretend this never happened for the rest of the day. By that night, Lance would probably be teasing him about the entire event. But Keith was _hopelessly_ turned on and he didn’t want to let Lance off the hook that easily. He hooked a finger into his boxers and tugged them down, freeing his mostly hard cock. He let his eyelids fall to half-mast and smugly glanced over to where Lance as shocked as a blushing maiden. Keith reached down with his other hand and rubbed his thumb idly underneath the head, his dick twitching eagerly in his hand. 

“You mean this twitching organ?”

To Keith’s dismay, instead of swallowing dryly or flushing with arousal of his own, Lance continued to stare at Keith’s face, utterly baffled. Not that he would ever admit it, but the fact that Lance was always _so_ attracted to him was a real confidence booster for Keith. Keith’s smirk dropped, but he desperately tried to keep his lips from falling into a childish pout at Lance’s continued silence and lack of reaction. His dick began to soften in his grip as the second major humiliation in twenty minutes began to sink in. Hurriedly, he stuffed himself down, yanked his boxers back up, and stood up, intending to go hog the bathroom for awhile. Just as he was trying to figure out whether he wanted to cry in shame or jerk off, (or maybe both at the same time), Lance managed to speak.

“Hold on, Keith! Just, wait a second okay?”

Keith glared at Lance over his shoulder, but he paused in place. Not that he had a real problem with Lance not being in the mood. It would be the first time, especially considering that Keith rarely ever initiated outside of under the covers with the lights off at night. But there were plenty of times when Lance wanted to and Keith didn’t. He respected Lance and loved him too much to ever really be mad about it. His pride would be stung, sure, but nothing serious. It was how Lance had been staring at him, like Keith was disgusting, or something to be ashamed of. That expression hurt much worse than the rejection. 

“I mean, you kinda caught me off guard dude. I thought at first you were just joking around, ya know, because of what Shiro said earlier. But then, when I was sitting next to you and, you were obviously fantasizing about it, uh. How come…you never told me?”

“You’re asking me that while you’re having _this_ reaction? Why do you think?”

Lance flinched and looked down. 

“Sorry. I never meant to make you feel like you couldn’t trust me.”

Keith sighed heavily, turning halfway to face Lance, but keeping his arms crossed protectively over his chest.

“That’s not what it’s about and you know it. I do trust you, but I also know you. Your favorite kind of sex is slow and gentle.”

Lance’s eyes flashed. 

“I have kinks! I enjoy kinky sex just as much as the next hot blooded young man!”

“All of your kinks allow you to go slow and be gentle! You play cheesy love songs and fuck me to the beat of the song!”

Lance flushed, his mouth opening and closing in indignation. He shoved an accusatory finger against Keith’s chest and leaned forward to hiss in his face.

“You _love_ it when I do that!”

“Yeah! I do! But I also like other things too! I have to beg you to be rough and then you spend the entire next day worrying and apologizing over a couple of tiny bruises on my hips. Or that time when you pulled my hair and saw that you’d pulled out a few strands. Or! When you scratched my back and I bled a few drops, but when you saw the blood on your fingertips you started crying!”

“Oh! Well excuse me for caring about your general well-being!”

Keith threw his arms up.

“That’s my point Lance! You care about me and you don’t want to hurt me. So why would I tell you about my secret kink for being experimented on painfully?! I knew we would fight about it because you would feel responsible for satisfying me, but it would be too traumatic for you to do it. So let’s just drop it and try to forget this ever happened okay?”

“Look, maybe there is something…”

Lance started, because this was Lance and he couldn’t ever just fucking drop it.

“I mean, what if we sort of carry out your fantasy, but without the physical damage? Before the cut, Pidge was listing other tests that weren’t painful.”

Keith looked at Lance for a few moments with a mixture of exasperation, pity, and fondness before shrugging and dropping his arms to hang by his sides in defeat to this boy who loved him so goddamn much.

“If anyone can figure something out, it’s you. Right, Loverboy?”

Lance’s eyes gleamed, lighting up from their uncertainty from before. They shone with burgeoning ideas and relief. He honestly hated seriously fighting with Keith, all their petty squabbles and teasing notwithstanding. The current fight had ended. But the tense atmosphere remained, both of them standing there awkwardly avoiding each other’s gaze. Lance took a deep breath and considered the facts. First, Keith was _in the mood._ Second, Lance has never been known for denying his boyfriend. Third, much as it was strange and sort of gross, Keith wanted a very specific kind of sex and Lance had to base it on Pidge’s ideas. Lance exhaled. 

The next thing either of them knew, Keith was naked and spread eagle on the kitchen table. Lance used their accumulated collection of belts to secure Keith’s ankles and wrists to the legs of the table, praying the whole time that the table was sturdy enough to take an adult male’s weight and wouldn’t either break or tip over. He blinked and critically examined his work. Keith tensed his muscles, testing the bonds. The belts were secure, but the position looked uncomfortable at best. Lance winced. The table wasn’t long enough to accommodate Keith’s height so his torso was on the table and his thighs were as well, but his knees were bent and spread so his ankles could be tied. His shoulders were rotated in so his arms dangled behind him but they were still held in a bizarre way.

“Is this going to work? I mean, can you feel your hands and feet? Is there blood flow?”

“I’m _fine_ Lance.”

Eyes flicking up, Lance noted that Keith was more than fine. He was half hard and his eyes were lidded in lust. That was gratifying and Lance started to reciprocate a little until he realized with dismay that this was their goddamn kitchen table where they ate. He’d have to completely disinfect it afterwards. Break out the 409 and scrub it down. Maybe scrub the entire kitchen. Keith made an impatient noise and Lance startled out of his cleaning frenzy thoughts. Right so, what was the next thing Pidge did? Biting his lip, Lance looked around, trying to formulate the rest of his hasty plan. Panicking, he yanked Keith’s shirt from where it was discarded on the couch and rolled it up, tying it over Keith’s eyes in a makeshift blindfold. Keith hummed in approval. Lance hurried off, not wanting to waste the precious time he’d bought himself. 

Okay. This was fine. He could do this. He just has to examine Keith, document him, and like, probe him or something. That could transition into fucking. No problemo. Lance made a mental note to himself to do some research on this whole kink after this crisis was averted, maybe buy some more authentic supplies, whatever the hell those might be. Doctor equipment? Shit, he had no idea what he was doing. Fuck fuck fuck. No, he was going to do this and it would be okay. This was fine. Keith was fine, Lance was fine. Everything was _motherfucking fine._

Everything was not fine.

Skidding abruptly back into the kitchen with a giant pile of things balanced precariously in his arms, Lance dumped everything unceremoniously on the floor in favor of checking Keith’s hands and feet. 

“Pins and needles? Can you feel this?”

Lance tapped lightly against the skin. Though his face was hidden, Keith’s eyeroll was palpable.

“Still fine. I have a safe word you know.”

Despite his best intentions, irritation was slipping into his voice and Lance knew he had to get a move on. It was a miracle that Keith was even still willing to go through with this after Lance’s bumblelord approach. Lance debated on keeping Keith blindfolded. This wasn’t the kind of thing where he could afford to have Keith be surprised, but on the other hand, maybe not knowing what would come next would add to sexiness of the scene? Deciding that the best way to learn would be through studying Keith’s facial expressions, Lance took off the blindfold. Keith blinked a couple of times and turned his head to the side, wanting to see what Lance had dropped on the floor. He surveyed the items and frowned. 

“Beanie babies?”

Lance crossed his arms defensively.

“You liked the part where there was a panel of alien scientists watching the examination and studying you. And no way I’m letting anyone else alive see you like this. So, you get me and all of my babies.”

Keith looked at Patti the Platypus’s beady black eyes where it lay as a bright purple spot on top of the pile and he squirmed uncomfortably. It was a sore subject between them so Keith usually chose to just ignore Lance’s collection and the fact that he just referred to them as his babies. But he always closed the door of the closet in their bedroom before they went to bed at night. Pursing his lips, Keith turned his head away. 

Lance knew Keith didn’t care about Beanie babies, but the guy was seriously losing his erection over this? Whatever, they reassured Lance so Keith would have to deal. One thing Lance was confident of was his ability to get Keith hard, no matter the situation. So he arranged the multitude of Beanie babies around the kitchen. Once finished, Lance put his hands on his hips and debated what to do next. Probably start with the basics. Nodding confidently to himself, Lance opened the medical kit and grabbed a flash light and their hammer. 

“Open up, Subject 24601.”

Keith narrowed his eyes, but reluctantly obeyed. Lance inserted the tongue depressor and shone the flashlight down his throat.

“Say ah.”

Keith resolutely did not say ah. Lance tried to hide his disappointment. Shaking it off, he discarded the tongue depressor and pressed his ear against Keith’s chest.

“Take deep breaths.”

Keith sighed. Lance stood up and glared at him.

“Why aren’t you playing along?”

“I’m supposed to be tested by aliens! Not in for my yearly check up!”Lance pouted and picked up the flashlight again, shining it into Keith’s eyes in petty revenge. Keith snarled and struggled against the belts. The table creaked alarmingly and Lance moved the light to look in his ears. Then he looked up Keith’s nose and tried to muffle his giggle. Judging by Keith’s expression, he failed.

“Look, this isn’t working. I’ve gone totally soft! Can you try something else?”

When Keith had started complaining, Lance had been positive that Keith would just call the whole thing off. Out of frustration at Lance’s ignorance or overall incompetence, whatever. Lance would take that blow to the pride. When Keith didn’t call it off, though, Lance started thinking of ways that he could entice Keith to do so. He was apparently bumbling it pretty badly already, so now he just had to get Keith horny again and they could have normal sex. Maybe they could keep the belts on though. Lance was starting to get behind the whole being tied to the table thing. And he could get behind that ass any time. Speaking of which…

Lance crouched at the other end of the table. It was unfortunate that most of Keith’s ass was squished against the table, but with the way his hips were canted up to spread his legs, his pretty hole was visible. Even his cock, limp as it was, Lance found beautiful. He turned on the flashlight, pretending to take careful notes of the human genitalia. He poked and prodded at Keith’s balls, running the tips of his fingers down his perineum and brushing over his hole. A full bodied shiver worked its way through Keith. 

There was a thought. Keith wasn’t exactly known for his patience. Instead of annoying him, maybe a better strategy would be to just bore him. Tease him lightly until he couldn’t handle it anymore and was begging Lance to just take him now. 

“The human butt. Functionally used to excrete waste products, as are the genitals. The penis is also used for reproductive purposes as this scientist will now investigate…”

Lance did his best impression of a bored professor. He chanced a look up at Keith whose mouth was twitching in his attempt to not smile. 

“These buttocks in particular seem well rounded and muscular, suggesting that the subject works out on a regular basis. But not too muscular. Still retains a nice layer of fat, very nice for squeezing, would probably look fantastic bouncing on this scientist’s dick.”

Keith chuckled. Lance mentally slapped himself. Bad Lance! He was supposed to be boring Keith! Dry, clinical terms only! But, Lance reasoned with himself, it would be a losing battle. He was incapable of describing Keith’s ass in any other way than totally amazing. Quickly moving on, Lance whipped out the tape measure, lining it up to take bogus measurements of different parts of Keith’s body and scribbling his findings down on a spare notebook he saw laying on the kitchen counter. Keith may have been slightly amused before, but now he was growing bored once again. 

“Lance. Get on with it! We are going to have a discussion about this later.”

He demanded huffily. 

Lance’s lips twisted into a frown. He’d just wanted to convince Keith that this wasn’t a good idea, not resume their fight from earlier. He probably should have never agreed to it in the first place; should have just offered to fuck Keith in their comfy bed from the start. Keith watched Lance contemplate him with a frown and suddenly his annoyance doubled. Even if he’d been caught by surprise at first, by now it was abundantly clear that Lance was treating the whole thing as a big joke. It all made sense. The doctor impression, the Beanie babies, the way he was barely even touching Keith’s prick- all of it was just a big joke to Lance. Keith’s fists clenched and he felt horribly exposed in a way he’d never been around Lance before. He scowled.

“You could have just made fun of me. You didn’t have to do all this to mock me.”

Keith muttered, turning away. Lance’s eyebrows raised, but before he could say anything in rebuttal, Keith continued.

“If you thought this whole thing was so dumb, why did you bother trying?”

It wasn’t possible for Keith to curl in on himself, but he tried his damndest. 

“I shouldn’t have said anything. I should have just played it off as nothing after the session. I know it’s freaky okay?! I get it! You’re right! I never should have brought it up okay? I won’t make that mistake again.”

Keith’s voice wobbled and he bit the inside of his cheek savagely, willing himself not to cry. Lance noticed, of course he did. 

“No! No that wasn’t- It’s not a joke okay? I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to upset you. The professor voice was overdoing it, I understand. It’s just, I like hearing you giggle, ya know? That’s what puts _me_ in the mood, but I didn’t mean to make you think I was mocking you.”

Keith concentrated on blinking rapidly and taking deep breaths. Lance sighed, guilt washing over him. He rested his head briefly against Keith’s soft thigh to compose himself, kissing the inside of his knee. Then, he stood up and rounded the table, gently turning Keith to face him and holding him by the chin when Keith stubbornly tried to face away again. Lance peppered his face with light kisses, the barest brush of his lips. 

“There’s nothing to be ashamed of. Everyone has certain things that they like. And, as your lover, it’s my responsibility to give it my best shot at satisfying you. I’ll be honest, most of that was my normal bravado. I’m worried. That’s why I was being silly.”

He leaned back to let Keith see the truth in his eyes.

“I’m worried about hurting you, sure, but mostly I’m worried about not living up to what you expect. But I’m gonna try again and be serious this time. So, uh, if it’s still not working for either you or me after that, then I guess we can try to come up with a better plan for next time.”

“Next time?”

“Yeah. I’m gonna take care of you. You want to continue or should we stop?”

Keith smiled a little and nodded, overwhelmed by Lance’s solemn concern and resolution. His voice was hoarse when he replied.

“Continue.”

Lance took a steadying breath. Then he took another, because it never hurt to be more prepared. He picked up the letter opener in the shape of an anime sword that he’d hauled in earlier and fished around in the med kit for the needle. He absolutely did not think about the needle’s weird curved shape or how it was designed that way to stitch up living, elastic skin. Pricking Keith on the arm, Lance managed to coax out a couple of drops of blood. He scooped them up on the tip of the letter opener and Keith watched avidly as Lance drew the letter opener over a spot on his chest, applying enough pressure that if the blade was sharp it would have cut. The bit of blood from Keith’s arm smeared over the fake cut and Keith’s eyes widened. His eyelashes fluttered and he groaned at the sight.

Lance catalogued both the ‘wound’ and Keith’s reaction. Cocking his head slightly, he had to admit that the red color on Keith’s pale skin did evoke a sort of horrifying fascination. Keith was waiting for his reaction though, so Lance mustered up:

“It’s…aesthetically pleasing?”

Apparently, that was good enough. Lance repeated the action a few times, continuing to prick around his original spot, (in the crook of his elbow so it could be washed and bandaged easily of course), and making several ‘wounds’ on Keith’s torso, always in places far enough down that Keith could see them. Keith was half hard again and wiggling as far as the belts would allow him. Lance went back to praying that the table didn’t break. 

“Lance! C’mon, my pocket knife! It’s in my pack, by my pants. Use it instead of that! Please, please. Ah! Lance!”

Although Lance was very weak to his boyfriend begging him, and had, in fact, known tonight would end with Keith pleading with him, the idea of using a sharp blade and slicing open Keith, seeing more than just a few harmless drops of his blood welling up? Lance felt queasy at the thought. Furthermore, hadn’t Lance already proved how inept he was at this? He sure as f u c k didn’t know where the important veins were in a person. Or how to make a shallow cut. Every time he pricked him with the needle, Keith jerked against his bonds and was barely holding still, bucking his hips wildly at the sensations. What if he seriously injured Keith? Then they’d have to call 911 and he’d be like ‘Help my boyfriend is bleeding out on the table because I cut him too hard’ and then the ambulance would come and they’d be bankrupt from hospital fees and ambulance fees. And Lance would probably go to jail for assault. The police would find him, covered in Keith’s blood and Keith tied with belts to their kitchen table. So then they’d be in even more debt trying to hire a lawyer for Lance or maybe he’d still go to prison because he’s brown and oh fuck, what if they tried to revoke his green card and deport him? Shit, they’d probably get his nationality wrong and send him to Mexico or some bull and then he’d have to explain to his _mother_ why he’d been deported and was in Mexico and was in serious debt and oh god what if he had to be in prison in Mexico-

“Uh, Lance?”

“Huh?”

Keith looked concerned.

“You kinda stopped moving. And then you started mumbling about Mexican prisons. Are you okay?”

Lance swallowed, refocusing on the situation at hand.

“Yup! Nothing wrong here. No siree! But, uh, I’ll just leave your pocket knife where it is.”

Keith looked faintly disappointed, but Lance already had a plan. He was sure it would be enough for Keith. Pretty sure. And then, because he absolutely couldn’t help himself:

“I just gotta do one quick thing first.”

Diving for the measuring tape which had been discarded on the floor, Lance measured Keith’s erection. For comparative purposes. Keith thunked his head against the unsympathetic table and wondered where he’d gone wrong. Pressing apologetic kisses to his thighs and calves, Lance untied the lower belts and redid them so that Keith’s calves were secured to his thighs, forcing him into a folded position with his ass raised up. A far superior position, in Lance’s humble opinion. Taking the needle in hand, and a fortifying breath, Lance made sure he had Keith’s attention.

“No real knives. I can’t do those. But, I can do this.”

Clenching his jaw tightly, Lance leaned forward and pricked Keith on the inside of his thigh, _hard._ Keith howled at the sensation, yanking at his bound arms, precum spurting from his cock excitedly. 

“Oh fuck! Ah! Lance, so good, fuck! Put your mouth on it, suck it, ah shit, lap it up and leave a mark. Want you so bad!”

Keith rambled, chest heaving as he trembled. Privately, Lance thought about all of the bacteria teeming in a human mouth and resolutely did not obey. Lance responded in his best sultry voice, trying desperately to not think too hard about the words leaving his mouth.

“You’d like that, wouldn’t you? My mouth all over you, tasting your nasty alien blood? Getting you sloppy with your own lifeblood? I’ll have to make a note that you’re a little slut, Subject.”

Keith groaned and tried to raise his hips higher, toes curling. Unwilling to let Keith get an infection, no matter how unsexy it might be, Lance ripped open an alcohol wipe and disinfected the tiny hole. Keith hissed in displeasure, narrowing his eyes. Smiling in apology, Lance took ahold of Keith’s leaking prick for real. In keeping with his character, Lance traced his fingers over it lightly, and then with a firmer grasp, narrating sporadically as he thoroughly investigated the twitching organ.

“Hmm…Subject responds positively when rubbed just under the head, like so-“

Lance demonstrated and Keith bucked into his grip.

“Not all movements appear to be voluntary. Currently unknown how much control subject has over twitches and production of slippery fluid. A sample will be needed for further testing.”

Lance winked at Keith, swiping a finger over the slit and tasting the precum collected there. 

“The lab is my mouth.”

Keith’s groan was more of playful indulgence than lust.

“Fluid is likely a good source of protein, based on lab results.”

Lance turned away to snag the all important bottle of lubricant from Pinchers the lobster. As he did so, he noticed some dirty dishes by the sink and the cutlery especially. He slowed his movements, an idea suddenly coming to him. He walked over to the drawer and pulled out a couple of spoons, turning his body so that Keith couldn’t see what he was up to. Their cutlery set had a small, metal ball at the end of each utensil. Grinning to himself, Lance brought them over with him, proud that he’d had the idea. He could be kinky too!

After spreading some lube around and just inside Keith’s hole, (and taking a moment to appreciate it’s glistening responsiveness to his thumb), Lance used the first spoon. He inserted the metal ball slowly, checking Keith for signs of discomfort. The ball was only the size of his thumb and, considering Keith took his cock on a regular basis, Lance didn’t think he’d have a problem. Keith gasped at the cold sensation.

“You like that?”

Lance murmured smugly, happy to have found good metallic substitutes for alien probes. Just as Keith started to get used to the way Lance twisted one ball inside of him, Lance slid the other on in as well. He used them to scissor Keith open, trying to replicate the actions of a spreader used in surgery (he saw it on tv okay?). It kind of made him think of salad tongs and he was in the middle of moving back to go retrieve their pair before realizing that salad tongs are way too big and weirdly shaped. Rolling his eyes at himself, he concentrated on twisting the spoons together, peering closely at Keith’s entrance. Keith’s breathing was ragged and he only inhaled intermittently, like sometimes he forgot to breathe. Little punched out sounds echoed softly in their kitchen.

Finally hard himself and unable to keep the agonizingly slow pace, Lance removed the spoons and replaced them with his fingers.

“Aah!”

“Subject seems to have a certain spot inside, like a swollen nub. Very responsive, even with the lightest brush over the spot.”

He tortured Keith for a few more seconds, adding a generous amount of lube, before he could resist no longer. He withdrew his fingers and fumbled with his clothing, stepping out of his shorts and underwear and drawing close to Keith’s prone form. His breathing hitched as he looked over his boyfriend. The wound on Keith’s inner thigh was only bleeding sluggishly and the smaller ones on his arms had stopped completely. A blush spread down over Keith’s chest and rode high on his cheeks. Lance’s ears burned as he took in the completely disheveled boy beneath him, pausing with his cock in hand, positioned just at Keith’s hole. 

“Final test for the subject. Possibility of Galra heritage may be a factor in subject’s hotness to this researcher. Might be able to confirm through performance of intercourse. Ah, screw it.”

Lance rounded the table to grab Keith’s chin and tilt his face up roughly. He leaned in and slammed their mouths together, more of a wet bite than an actual kiss. Keith nipped his bottom lip particularly hard and Lance pulled away to whisper seductively:

“We’re gonna fuck for science now, Babe.”

Keith was so riled up from everything that even as he giggled breathlessly at Lance’s words, both of them knew that it wouldn’t last very long at all. Normally, Lance enjoyed drawing out their pleasure, trying to wring as many orgasms from both of them as was possible. But, at that moment, he just wanted to hurry up and get his dick in his pretty test subject. Much as he might have wanted to just clamber on top of Keith for better leverage, he doubted the table could handle their combined weight, so instead he stayed firmly on the ground. Grabbing ahold of Keith’s legs, he wrestled with them for a good angle as he _finally_ slid inside. Keith wheezed out a moan, falling limp and pliable in Lance’s capable hands. Lance couldn’t resist letting his fingers play lovingly over his skin, tracing the backs of his thighs and framing his genitals, running the barest tips over Keith’s prick and balls, smoothing down the coarse, dark hair.

Luckily for both of them, their table wasn’t very long so Lance was able to haul Keith to the very edge of it without dislocating his arms where they were still bound to the table legs. Lance grunted and stood on his tip toes, trying to find a height where he could get all the way in Keith. He thrust shallowly, grunting and relishing the feeling of his tip dragging in and out and catching slightly on Keith’s rim on each stroke. Keith enjoyed it too, at first. They panted in unison, straining to be closer. Keith tossed his head in ecstasy, some of his hair catching on his slicked lips and sticking. Lance smiled tenderly while Keith wrinkled his nose in distaste and tried to spit the hair out. But it became clear fast that neither of them would be satisfied. 

Finally losing patience, Lance growled in frustration, pulled away, and stomped over to haul out their tiny step stool they keep under the kitchen counter. He ignored the judgmental eyes of the Beanie babies and tripped over himself opening the stool as fast as humanly possible. Climbing on top, he finally had the proper leverage to sheath himself fully within Keith’s loosened hole and he did so without delay. They both groaned in tandem satisfaction.

Lance used one hand to grapple with one of Keith’s legs and hold him splayed out and let the other slip down to Keith’s ass, giving it an appreciative grope while he ground down. He leaned as much of his weight as he dared on Keith and began a steady pace of thrusting. His hand wandered higher, squeezing the pale flesh as he went. Finally, his hand reached its destination and he allowed his thumb to rest at the edge of Keith’s entrance, tugging it open wider and sliding inside alongside his cock every so often. His eyes fluttered at the slippery feeling and the additional friction his thumb provided. When Keith cried out for harder, faster, anything, Lance just smirked at him and raised his eyebrows lewdly in reply. Keith muttered something distinctly unflattering. Grinning wildly, Lance increased his pace, pressing harder. The friction relieved some of the ache of his own prick and he couldn’t even fathom how Keith must be faring at the moment. He raked his nails over Keith’s chest, balancing with his arm on Keith’s leg and Keith wailed under his expert ministrations. Lance entertained the thought of leaning over to pepper kisses along his lovely rosy collarbones, but didn’t want to lean on the table any more. He restrained himself with difficulty. Lance could already feel the heady heat pooling in his groin. Keith’s erection bounced as Lance fucked into him and the little huffs falling from his lips were a tell-tale sign that he was close as well. 

Lance leaned back slightly and pushed Keith’s legs flush against his chest. The bizarre sensation of his muscles being stretched harshly, coupled with the fine hairs on his legs rubbing against his swollen and sensitive nipples coalesced into molten tremors shivering down Keith’s spine. Lance slammed into him relentlessly, prodding for just the right spot. When his hand grazed the tip of Keith’s cock, he lost himself completely in the bliss. Lance reveled in the way Keith’s hole clenched and fluttered around his prick as Keith came all over his chest, keening loudly. Lance was _so close._ Almost there. He knew Keith got sensitive afterwards and preferred Lance to pull out, but Jesus fuck, it felt heavenly. And really, he’d just pleased Keith’s kinky side beyond measure, surely he’d let Lance have this?

Bucking wildly, trying to send himself over the edge as fast as possible, Lance barely noticed Keith’s quiet cries of oversensitivity. He tried to slow down, opened his mouth to ask Keith if he needed Lance to pull out, when Keith began to wiggle, gyrating his hips back and forth a bit. Usually, Keith didn’t want to move for a few minutes after he came, unless he was trying to come again? Lance listened to the slapping of Keith’s ass against the table and his mouth was to dry to form words. He might have croaked something. It was hard to say. Unable to stop himself, Lance’s hips bucked forward to meet Keith and Keith’s eyes rolled back into his head and he yelled. Lance’s eyes widened as Keith came a second time, with much less fluid the second time, entire body spasming around him and his hole seeming to pull Lance in even deeper, unwilling to let him go. 

The vision of creamy skin blotchy with arousal and smeared with his own come was enough to finally send Lance over the edge. Gripping Keith’s hips tightly, he shoved himself in hard and rode out his own high. As soon as he could move, he gently removed himself, but continued to hold Keith’s thighs against his chest, watching in awe as his own come dripped out of Keith’s reddened, shiny hole. 

Dripped…

…onto their kitchen table…where they eat…

Lance blinked a couple of times, chest heaving with exertion. Keith had a hazy look on his face that meant he wouldn’t be doing anything any time soon. So, it looked like Lance was about to have his own close encounter. With all the cleaning supplies they owned.


End file.
